


A Nightmare

by soren_berdichev



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soren_berdichev/pseuds/soren_berdichev
Summary: After experiencing the sheer horror of fighting broodmother, Elissa Cousland once again dreamed... the fall of Highever and spectres of those decreased.





	A Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> The story uses the same setting and timeline as my other stories. That is, the Castle Highever (aka. Castle Cousland) is located inland, on a small mountain near Imperial Highway, not beside or in the harbor city of Highever.

Elissa didn’t know how long she had been running in this dark corridor. It felt like she had been on the run since coming into this world. She didn’t know whether this way had a beginning, or an ending. She only knew her life would be forfeited the moment her legs stopped, so she dared not slow down for an instant.

Rampaging fires leaped from everywhere. Everything was burning. She could see flares and shadows dancing on stone walls, skipping and hopping almost playfully, but the passageway before her eyes only led to endless darkness. She knew it was all the same behind her. She came from a place abandoned by light, went to a terminal light-forsaken. But as long as she continued to run, a tentative halo of light will always be with her, so she didn’t stop her pace, nor did she look back.

Screams all around, but she couldn’t see a single figure. Peoples were begging, bleeding, dying. She couldn’t do anything for them. Hadn’t she boasted to her father that she would protect everyone? She couldn’t remember. If so, that promise must be made in another world, another time. She instinctively clenched the slim paper knife in her hand still more tightly, even as she knew that pathetic piece of metal could hardly kill anything.

Elissa vaguely remembered she only wore a leather vest above her silk shirt. When she sparred with her brother, using unedged training blades, she would have put on chain shirt, plus an extra piece of brigandine. But she never bothered to bring her armor back to bedroom. So, tonight the flimsy vest was all that between her body and descending, biting swords. Newly whetted blades, sharp-edged, with bright reflection. This was no sparring.

“Darling, follow me closely!” There came her mother’s urgent calling. Now Elissa could see mother’s back. The teyrna wore the same Silverite chainmail as in her portrait, charging before her daughter. Funny, it was mother who takes the point, fully armed and armored, slashing, piecing and shooting a bloody way out for both of them. Elissa herself, the proud pup, the upcoming heroine, could only do a disservice with panic and scream, no better than any pampered noble wench she secretly scorned so much. 

Father once told her, after his marriage with mother, they lived for several years in Highever City, in their grand mansion, with their newly-born son. At that time mother couldn’t yet throw off her identity as a sea raider. She was reluctant to live in Castle Highever, which lies inland, two days’ trek from coast. She loved the touch of Waking Sea, of its aquamarine wave, and its stormy rhythm. At that time, mother was still willing to teach her child the trick of sail and helm, she was still expecting one day, her son could continue the family trade, to become a raider as deadly as her. “We would have to fight those Orlesian bastards again sooner or later.” That’s what she once kept telling father.

This is not mother in Elissa’s memory. Before she came into this world, her family had permanently moved into Highever Castle. The girl herself was born here. Their mansion in the port city remained vacant except for two or three weeks around Summerday, when the entire family temporally resided there. “The fierce sea wolf transformed herself into a shrewd landlady after coming ashore.” She once told father, half-jokingly, half seriously. They were both massively amused, though father didn’t forget to advise her not to make such comment in front of her mother. Perhaps finally had enough with a raider’s life, at last Eleanor agreed to relocate into House Cousland’s ancestral stronghold. If Elissa could believe her father’s words, this was of mother’s own volition. 

From then on the teyrna’s connection with sea grew increasingly sketchy. Of all three Mac Eanraigs in her family, Elissa was the only one totally unable to operate a ship. “Darling, you don’t need to learn that. Sailing and helming could make your palms rough, and it will do your skin no good exposed to the sun.” Fergus’ sailor training continued, however. It’s his little sister who received a stern rejection. 

Eleanor no longer emphasized the inevitable renewal of war with Orlais. On the contrary, she suddenly became the biggest fan of Orlesian fashion in family. Dress, cosmetic, perfume, jewelry, wine, cookie… She embraced them all. Elissa wondered if there was any Orlesian thing mother still disliked. On several occasions the teyrna even tried to hold Orlesian-style masquerade in their hall. Every time Elissa was forced to wear an Orlesian mask, the girl protested loudly, but mother waved them all off. 

“You know, pup, your mother wasn’t always like this. It all began after your birth. It’s you let her experience the joy of world. You let her realize there are other things in our life than all those killing and dying. Treasured things” Father tried to placate her, as if Elissa should be proud of herself.

Because she gave birth to me. A _girl_. 

Elissa knew it’s all her fault. I render mum soft, I am the reason she lost her predatory instinct. If I were a boy, she would have treated me the same way as to Fergus, to do her utmost to ensure I become a renowned raider as she once was. Instead, she worried herself to death how to find a good husband for me, feared her daughter could be shunned everywhere because of her rough-skinned hands. Gradually Eleanor confined herself to this mentality. Besides disciplining her daughter how to behave like a refined lady, now she was more concerned how to live as the elegant teyrna, instead of a raging hurricane she once had been, dreaded and awed. The sea wolf relegated herself to poodle, no longer able to find her keen claws and sharp teeth. Elissa sworn she will never repeat the same mistake. Not only would she be as fierce as any boy, she would help mother recover her former edge, too. So, when mother refused to teach her how to fight and father couldn’t help much either, Elissa didn’t hesitate to seek guidance from Arl Howe, who resumed his visiting to her family after Maric died. Her tutor spoke fondly of her skill, but he also reminded her the only credible trial is combat.

Now Rendon decided to give his apprentice a real trial, it was Elissa’s turn to receive a rude awakening. Against all her expectation, mother still retained her old armor and weapons. Eleanor’s combat training, which her daughter had regarded as nothing more than sham, proved practical. It was her daughter who played the scared poodle. With no armor and only a paper knife as weapon, all she could do was following the raging sea wolf tentatively, hoping not to draw any untoward attention. For all her training and vaunted skill, she never managed to kill even a single enemy.

“Please help me!” A quavering voice begged from some nearby corner. Then a figure smeared with blood from top to toe appeared in the edge of her vision, staggering, with a long knife maliciously planting itself on his back. Elissa could hear enemy soldiers shouting and cursing afar. He desperately waved his arms to her, but she ignored him without a second thought. Why doesn’t he have the courtesy to find himself a hole and die? He draws every single Howe’s man toward her! Hasn’t Elissa expressed her wish to save only her own skin clearly enough? He is nobody, a servant, a rabble, deserves nothing better than obeying her every whim, why in the name of Andraste’s sweet tits could this moron think he has a right to ask her, the only precious daughter of a teyrn, to risk her own safety for his worthless life?

That guy in front of her, still stumbling toward her, didn’t seem to notice her bitterness at all. How could this hooligan be so blatant? “Auntie, save me…” She recognized him with a start, sudden awareness stroke her like thunderclap. All she could see was her little nephew’s bloody face, distorted and twisted by pain, deprived of any cherubic innocence. “Save me, save mum…” 

Invisible hands came from nowhere and everywhere, stretching her heart, tearing it, smashing it to a thousand pieces. With trembling arms she tried to hold him, but his face wisped away before her, dissipated into mist. “Please, don’t go! Wait for a moment!” Anguish plea choked her throat, despondent tear smeared her eyes, they wouldn’t let go. Unlike his coming, the child departed without a sound.

She saw a tall figure in front of her. A knight with full armor, swinging his longsword wildly. One, two… enemy soldiers were cut down one after another before they could get any chance to pounce her. But he was hit repeatedly, too. His movement inexorably slower. More shadowy figures appeared in the distance. 

Suddenly the knight turned toward her. Elissa stared at him incredulously. It was Gilmore. Father had recommended him to the Grey Warden leader after all, she dimly remembered. Her worry notwithstanding, that Duncan fellow didn’t dare to demand anyone’s conscription, let alone hers. Still, father gave Gilmore to him, with no remorse. 

As an offering, Elissa understood, to ensure everything went smoothly. Like a barbarian in ancient times. Sacrifice poultries and cattle, even dog and horse that accompanied him for years, to appease evil spirit, so it would spare his child. 

Those dark shadows materialized themselves into various armored figure, with wicked looking knives and swords in their hands. Without a word, they approached ominously.

The knight nodded to her, sadness all over his face. Suddenly Elissa couldn’t resist the impulse to rush forward, to kiss him with all her passion in the world. He received her lips impassively, at least he didn’t avoid her. Gilmore loved her. Once. He was fighting for her with last ounce of his strength. Soon he would depart this world, fading from her life forever. Only now was she willing to bestow him a bit of her tenderness. “So, my dear, haughty lady, you think you could buy my life with a kissing.” His eyes told her wordlessly. There was reluctance and compassion, somewhat lingering affection… yet also a shred of contempt she couldn’t pretend to ignore. “Pardon me, but whatever you could hand out no longer matters to me. Your kiss for a moment, your laugh in a spring day, your body for a passionate night, even your love for a life. I will still fight to the death, to earn you a few extra, precious seconds to flee. For my own dignity. For my own honor as a knight.” He turned around without hesitation, to charge against the swarming horde.

In front of her, mother suddenly stopped. Elissa felt her heart abruptly sucked into a bottomless dark hole. THE END. Arrived so swiftly, without mercy, or escape. She didn’t want to believe her eyes, but the scene before her couldn’t be more real. Five brawny men, all full armored and armed, stood opposite, eyeing the two women menacingly. The man in command wore full plate armor. He was obviously a knight, with abundant black moustache. The others had only chain mail. As if mattered, Elissa bemoaned, for that piece of scrap in her hand.

Without a word, Eleanor aimed her drawn bow toward them. That is a tactic favored by raiders. They would shoot arrows in short distance before boarding hostile ships. To eliminate as many as possible before close combat, then finish off survivors with daggers or axes. The sea wolf would sell her life dearly. In this narrow passageway, the space was as restricted as any ship cabin, long sword or maul couldn’t be utilized to their full potential. 

But there was no way mother could defeat five trained soldiers all by herself. And Elissa was powerless to help.

Some of those brutes would die. Or be maimed. Horribly. They didn’t seem to mind a bit. These beasts relished in imminent conquest, savored the taste of anticipated slaughter.

“Don’t kill… I will be a good girl… don’t kill me…” Elissa found herself murmuring these craven words, as if in a trance. But she couldn’t hear her voice, her lips shook with their own will.

“Bah, look at them! Exactly those two bitches! What a tender flower that little cunt is! With such a pretty face, I bet her holes are not slugged yet! It’s a crime to dispatch her right now. Let us enjoy her every hole, before sending her to the Maker.” The foremost soldier with a red, swollen nose, amused by her fear and cringe, suggested to his colleagues with lewd malevolence.

The knight beside him, however, was not amused at all. “Imbecile! Are you tired of living? If his lordship knew what you have said, he would string you up without a thought! Have you forgotten what captain said? Kill those whores as soon as we find them.”

The swollen nose was reluctant to let go his wild fantasy. But watching the knight bellow to him, with every intention to execute him on the spot if he disobeyed, quickly changed his idea. “Chick, too bad your honey holes have to remain unfilled. Don’t blame me.” He told the girl in an affectedly rueful tone, shook his head, then held his sword up with deliberate exaggeration. 

Elissa tried to rise her right arm, to cover her head with that tiny paper knife… and felt her entire body frozen. Only then she realized there was a gaping wound in her forearm. The skin was almost torn up, exposing muscle beneath, blood stains everywhere. She struggled to give the knife to her left hand, but her arm refused to obey. Upon seeing that, the swollen nose grinned with even more malice, exposed a mouthful of yellow, corrupted teeth. The stench was overwhelming.

“Please don’t! I am a good girl! I will do everything! Don’t kill me!” She screamed hysterically, with all abundance of despair in her spinning, crumbling universe.

“Liz, wake! wake up!” The man in front of her called urgently. Strange, when had his swollen nose and corrupted teeth disappeared? In place of them there was a handsome, cleanly shaved face. No malice, no savageness, only concern and care. 

“Don’t kill me… I will behave…be a good girl… I promise…” Elissa mumbled, dimly aware she was lying on the ground. She blinked her eyes several times, before everything become clearer.

I am dreaming. A nightmare. Comprehension gradually permeated her mind. No corridor, no flare, no wanton, drooling brutes. Only perpetual darkness, even thicker than that in her nightmare. Instinctively, she turned over to embrace the warm body beside her, but all she could hold is emptiness and chill. 

Leliana. She was no longer there. Elissa closes her eyes, but tear flows anyway. That red-haired bard with her charming Orlesian accent came to Elissa only days after they entered those Maker forsaken deep roads, entreating to sleep with her together. Who could guess darkness terrified her so much? Elissa acquiesced graciously. Naturally, she won’t tell anyone she was almost ready to ask Leliana the same thing. Holding the Orlesian girl’s body, perceiving her heartbeats, face touched by her soft breath, Elissa could feel she still lives, even surrounded by persistent shadow of death.

“ _Lived_.” She corrects herself. It was she who gave the order to leave Leliana behind, to abandon her in a place sunlight will never touch. She had no other choice. The Orlesian girl broke her leg in fighting against the broodmother, unable to walk. And they expected more broodmothers ahead. None of them could still reach Anvil of the Void with her. Hadn’t Elissa left Wynne and Sten to care for her wound, to protect her, even to deliver her if necessary? She had done everything in her power for her friend.

YOU ARE LYING. THERE IS ALWAYS ANOTHER CHOICE. We could all turn around, carry her back to Orzammar, to void with Bhelen and his crown, to void with dwarven army he pledged. You would never do that, because it means those mercenaries promised by Bhelen would evaporate, too. It means your dream of snatching back your family’s land and title would shatter, forever. If you broke your leg, every one of your companions will agree to escort you back, even if the entire expedition had to be aborted. You know that. But you will never make such sacrifice for any of them. Your proud is the only thing that still belongs to you. Like a drowning woman, you will not let it go, until you learn how to feel safe by trusting friends. ANEW.

That’s right, Elissa admits sullenly. They are my friends. But would they still be willing to sacrifice anything for me, if I sank into a fugitive life, if I were forced to hide myself until end of my days? Even they were still willing to help, I would never have the courage to ask. Without my title, without my dignity, I am just a walking dead, no longer able to stay upright with whatever solid support.

“Let me help you with the armor.” The handsome young man in front of her extended a hand, gently pulled her up. “You know, Liz, last year’s New Year day I overslept, too. Some pranker decided to give me “a basin of refreshing”. I screamed like a girl. Before I knew, I somehow escaped snatch of Chantry, and lighted a fire under Grand Cleric’s ass meanwhile. Who knows, maybe our fortune would improve this year, and we could light more fires under more asses, because you happen to oversleep a little.”

“Shut up, Alistair.” Elissa tells him, half annoyed, yet she couldn’t help giggling. His sense of humor seemed to elevate itself into a new level. But those inappropriate little jokes always made her laugh, this time was no exception. It’s more likely their remaining lives could only be counted by days, or hours. Everyone knows that. Only he could shrug and seriously make such brilliant plan of cooking asses for an entire year. She gave herself a wry smile, before she noticed the former templar had already fetched the bulky, sturdy dwarven plate for her. He stood aside, gazing her with unabashed appreciation.

“Don’t look at me, Alistair. I am no prettier than those monsters.” She said absent-mindedly. It’s not entirely exaggeration. Walked in those filthy subterranean caves for days, weeks, never dared to bath herself for once. Hairs tangled to a mess, face smirched with dirt and sweat, Elissa knew how scruffy she looks. She stopped to use perfume after Caridin’s Cross, for it’s now pointless. Thank The Maker, any funny smell from her body was blessedly blended in other people’s odor, or atmosphere of corruption everywhere, impossible to be distinguished. 

She stood there, let Alistair couch down and fixate plate pieces one by one to her legs. Her hands carefully twisted her hair into a loose braid, wove it to a bun, then secured it with an ivory hairpin. As her hair grew, it became stubborner every day. Tending it thus required more and more effort. But she wouldn’t abandon this ritual, for whatever reason.

Darkspawns don’t grow hair. They never need to braid it, neither do they use a hairpin. I am still a woman. I haven’t degenerated into a beast. _Yet_.

“Liz, it’s not too far from our goal now.” Alistair fixed the last plate on her arm, then caught her palm with his. “I know the journey has been exhausting, but we will do this together. Come, be a brave girl. Follow me.”

Elissa numbly moved her legs, she felt like a doll, to be dragged forward regardless of her wish. Just as she was once dragged away into same darkness, by another man, in another memory.

In her new life, the last leg of the journey is always the hardest. But she will grit her teeth and endure.

She cannot look back.

She will not.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to write Cousland/Howe relationship from a different approach, that he was once their genuine friend, not just some random rabid dog Couslands too carelessly let into their house. 
> 
> For now this short story is all that I finished. Later it may be expanded to a whole story of Elissa and Howe's erstwhile friendship, her date and engagement with his younger son, his betrayal, and their final, fatal confrontment.
> 
> As you can see in this story, he is not a good man, and she is not a good girl. Needless to say, she was unwilling to join the Grey Warden. Constantly tormented by her guilty of once fraternizng with him, she is lucky to have Alistair by her side.
> 
> As in all dreams, those scenes are mixture of what really happened and what she believed had happened.


End file.
